


A Little Less Poison

by LeftHandOfSnarkness



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 13:29:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftHandOfSnarkness/pseuds/LeftHandOfSnarkness
Summary: Anger was his superpower.Just a little character sketch of Diego pre-episode 1. Mostly from the show, but includes some elements of the comics as well.





	A Little Less Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Jesse Lafser song by the same name off her album "Land In Sight." I own nothing, obviously. 
> 
> Comments and criticisms always welcome!

Anger was his superpower. 

 

Not his ability to throw knives with unerring accuracy, or hold his breath for insanely long periods of time; it was his anger that never failed him, that helped him survive growing up in that fucking house, helped make sure he came back from missions alive, helped him be a half-way decent punk rocker, eventually helped him get the hell out of that place. He was angry even before he knew he had powers, since he was old enough to realize that there was something off about the way they lived that ran deeper than just the abilities they had developed one by one.

 

It had it's downsides, sure. He had a hot temper that got him into more fights than he could count, fights that weren't always against bad guys, just guys that were drunk at a bar and too stupid to recognize a trained boxer itching to hit somebody when they saw it. It got him kicked out of the police academy. It got him into fights with Eudora that eventually culminated in her telling him to get the hell out and not come back, for good this time. It made him say things he regretted later, and didn't give the option of taking those words back. 

 

But it also made him good at what he did. It gave him an edge, help him see things more clearly. It pumped through his veins and made his blood sing in his ears whenever his punches connected against an opponent, when he heard the sickening crunch of bone breaking and the feel of flesh giving way under his knuckles. It made him _alive_ , a thrumming live wire that was constantly buzzing, that kept him getting up long after he should have stayed on the mat and admitted defeat. It sharpened his voice, whittled away at the too-many syllables that sometimes came out of his mouth unwanted, made his words razor-thin and crisp and biting, able to be thrown with the same ease he threw his blades. Able to hurt just as easily. 

 

He yelled at Klaus for all his addictions, but the truth was that Diego thought he might understand, just a little, what Klaus felt when those drugs hit his bloodstream, because he could feel it too. When he had finally cussed the old man out, yelled and screamed and turned his back on him and walked out of the Academy for the last time, it had felt like nothing ever had in his life. And he craved more of it, _needed_ more of it, so he stopped trying not to be angry, and let it sweep him away. It took him to boxing rings and back alley brawls, that sometimes ended in a sportsmanly pat on the back and sometimes ended in half running, half limping away from the sound of approaching sirens. It took him to crime scenes and leaving perps tied up for the police to find or else not leaving anyone there by the time the cops showed up. It took him to Eudora's apartment, and nights that sometimes ended with an argument and her kicking him to the curb and sometimes ended with her straddling his lap, teeth sinking into his lip, nails carving welts down his back. He doesn't know which nights he likes better.

 

Anger was his disguise. Better than the fake name he gave when he enrolled (and then got kicked out of) the police academy, better than his domino mask, or the cover of darkness. The anger he let bloom inside him covered all the things he didn't want to deal with and didn't want others to see.

 

It covered the fact that he was scared, even if he wasn't always sure what of. It was so much easier to rant at Klaus for being a screw up while he dragged him back to rehab (again), then it was to admit that he knew he couldn't survive losing another brother, that he wasn't always sure he had survived losing the first two. That sometimes he wondered if he wasn't really alive anymore, that maybe he was just a vengeful spirit moving around the city at night, that maybe that was the reason Klaus always seemed to find him.

 

It covered the fact that sometimes he just wanted so desperately to be normal. That he looked at Dora, a job on the force, a nice apartment and 2.5 kids and thought _I could have all that, if I tried_. And what was worse, he knew she knew it, too. Not always, maybe, but enough. Knew that when she looked at him she could see all his posturing and bravado for the bullshit it was. Knew that when she looked at him, she actually saw him, and that was terrifying. Too many horrible things had to get dragged into the light for him to be the man she saw, not just sometimes, but all the time, so he let the anger fester, let it drive them apart, let it push him back into the cool shadow of isolation he was so used to. 

 

It hid the fact that he was jealous. Of his siblings, on the days when he thinks his powers were just parlor tricks compared to what they can do. Of Vanya, who didn't recognize what a gift it was to be normal and sulked and whined about not being a freak like the rest of them. Of the other guys at the police academy, who all seemed to have their shit together. Of the nice little families whose lives he sometimes had to save, because they saw him on the worst days of their life, but for him it might not even be the worst thing he sees that night. 

 

It hides the fact that he wants his family back. Not the old man, obviously, but his mom and his siblings. He misses the noise of a house full of other people, people who, no matter how annoying they can be, understand what he is going through. The only people in the world, maybe, who can truly understand. He misses Allison and Luther giggling and making eyes at each other like the rest of them don't see. He misses Klaus and the fun they used to have sneaking out to get drinks or donuts or just to walk around the city. He misses Five's superior tone and irritating habit of popping in and out of existence. He misses Ben, his thoughtful, sweet brother who was too good to last in a family like theirs. He misses the sound of Vanya's violin wavering through the air. He misses the little boy he used to be, stutter and fear of needles and all. Anger covered the fact that he knows he needs them more than they need him. 

 

And so he lets the anger have him, because it makes him good at what he does, and what he does helps people. Anger and righteousness twist so easily together, and he doesn't bother to try to separate them back out again. If it stifles the rest of him, the fragmented parts of what could be a different man, well, that's a small price to pay for what he is able to accomplish. 

Diego's angry; and that's a power in and of itself. 


End file.
